Set Ablaze
by Espionne
Summary: After losing one of his daughters to a horrific murder, Tim Scam must now learn to live with the consequences of his choices as a father and husband. Sam/Scam; also includes significant elements involving Scam's elder daughter. Some parts of the story may be rated 'M' - reader discretion is advised.
1. Relapse

_A/N: This represents my very first foray into the 'Horror' genre. I already have most of the major elements of this story planned out. Please note that this story contains disturbing content. Reader discretion is advised._

* * *

A grim smirk crossed Tim Scam's lips as he stood outside the man's door. Taking in a deep breath to calm his racing nerves, he knew that there was no turning back after this. This man would be dead and gone after he had his way with him. After what this sick pervert had done to _her_, and after having kept him distraught and sleepless for the past fifty hours, it was only fair.

_Now was the time._

Having made up his mind, his gloved fingers reached for the keypad above the door handle, and he expertly typed away before it unlocked with a soft click. He stealthily slipped inside without making a single noise. As soon as he entered, the stench of smoke filled his nostrils and pierced his eyes, and though it didn't have any physical effect on him, he was inwardly wincing as his mind flickered back to how he had found _her – _charred, burned, scarred beyond all recognition. The memory was still a knife through his heart. He closed his eyes for a second, reminding himself that he was here for one thing alone, and that he was going to finish the job. After all, that was what he had always done best.

Scam heard the man let out a relaxed sigh from the living room. Slowly making his way towards it, he blended in perfectly with the shadows and stopped abruptly once he was right across from where his victim was sitting. His smirk grew wider and more bitter as he put his hands in his pockets and felt the hard outline of the weapon he had brought, knowing that the man would certainly not be expecting _this _coming.

For a few moments the man, alias Alan Marcus, remained completely oblivious, before suddenly looking up and freezing as he realized that he was not alone. An eerie chill ran down his spine as he locked eyes with a much larger man. Judging by the intruder's highly menacing manner, he did not have a good feeling about his intentions.

Confused and desperate for answers, Alan put down his cigarette and lifted a shaking finger as he pointed it at Scam. "Who in the world do you think you are?!" he shouted. "This is a violation of my rights! Get out of here before I report you to the authorities!"

A cold, mocking laugh cut him off before he could say anything else. Scam could not believe the nerve of this guy. After all he had done – after _what _he had done – he was still trying to play innocent?

"Tsk, tsk, tsk…" Scam tutted, shaking his head at the man's idiotic behavior, "I never thought you'd be so stupid as to underestimate my abilities so severely_._" Shaking his head again in revulsion as the memories of what Alan had gone and done to _her _came flooding back, he continued: "I also never thought you'd stoop so low as to go and commit such a heinous crime. Believe me, if you're listening to ME of all people telling you that your crime was heinous, then you are literally the scum of the earth – and now's the time to _take care of you._" His eyes grew darker with unadulterated rage and bloodlust as he spoke, silently relishing Alan's fear.

It had been such a long time since he'd done this, and he had almost forgotten how good it felt, especially now that he was seeking revenge on behalf of someone he loved dearly. Scam traced the outline of the weapon in his pocket again, reminding himself not to break down again and that what he was doing was all for _her_.

Alan instinctively ran towards the closest window, trying desperately to push it open – but to no avail. Before letting himself in, Scam had gone and locked all the doors and windows from the outside, to ensure that there was nowhere Alan would be going anytime soon.

"Help!" Alan wailed. "Help – police – someone!"

Scam didn't bat an eyelid at the doomed man's pleas for help. "No one's listening."

In the next moment, Alan gasped in pain as a knife was slashed repeatedly across his back and arms, causing blood to pour profusely out of the wounds. He tried to turn around to defend himself, but was thrown roughly back by Scam's arm and went flying into the nearest wall. Keeping an ice-cold glare on his suffering victim the whole time, Scam reminded himself that no matter what he did, nothing could compare to what this bastard had done to _his little girl_, or to how badly he himself was hurting emotionally.

At last, when the gruesome deed was almost complete, a bloody and battered Alan squinted helplessly at his attacker through bruised and swollen eyes. "W-Why…?" he stammered, still not understanding the motive for this man's bloodlust.

"Want to know?" Scam mocked, leaning down closer to Alan so that he could see his face more clearly. Immediately his victim froze as he noted its most conspicuous feature – his rare sea-foam eye color.

"You – you found out…" His voice trailed off, as he struggled to breathe through his rapidly weakening lungs. "You're… you're her _father?"_

"Good job," Scam smirked sarcastically before bringing his knife down for one last attack.

As the man finally lay unconscious at his feet, Scam picked up the still-smoking cigarette from the ash tray that Alan had been holding earlier. Knowing that he was a heavy smoker and thus didn't have a smoke detector of any sort installed in his home, Scam smirked, knowing that disposing of him was going to be easy. His sea-foam gaze wandered over to the gas stove. Going down in a blaze of fire - it was a perfect end to this pathetic waste of life. More importantly, it was the perfect payback for what Alan had done – specifically, for what he had been the _first _to do.

His only regret was that he hadn't been able to save _her_ in time…


	2. Fire!

_Disclaimer: Totally Spies belongs to Marathon Media Inc._

* * *

He found himself back in the midst of the vicious cycle he had struggled to leave for so long. Running from the law, running from what he was being accused of doing – it was his old nightmare beginning all over again. Worst of all, he had _her _to worry about now too.

Scam watched his thirteen-year-old daughter, Steffy, somewhat apprehensively out of the corner of his eye. She looked gloomy as usual, staring blankly out of the window of the car. He sighed, thinking of how much things had changed in just two years. Sometimes he would be kept up at night, watching as flashbacks from his happier past played and replayed themselves in his mind. There were images of his wedding, images of rocking an infant Steffy to sleep after feeding her, images of staying up late to work on school projects with his daughters, and images of him being a far better person than he had ever been at any point in his life.

Occasionally sounds were involved as well. Sometimes, even after closing his eyes, he could still hear the delighted giggles and coos coming from the mouths of two little girls as they stared up at him with pairs of eyes that matched his. Unfortunately, one of them was one whom he'd never see again, at least not in this lifetime. _Celeste._

He frowned sadly, thinking of what he'd done to avenge her death. Ever since Alan Marcus's blackened remains were found in the midst of the burnt rubble that was once his home, police had immediately pegged Scam as one of the primary suspects due to his previous criminal record, as well as the fact that Alan had been identified as his daughter's abuser and killer. They had been about to arrest Alan the same day he was murdered, but thanks to Scam's access to WOOHP resources, he had been able to piece together Alan's identity well before the state police department reached a conclusion. It took hours upon hours of personal investigation, and Scam still remembered how he had come dangerously close to being a nervous wreck himself, out of both the horror of seeing his precious darling lying in _that _subhuman state, and his dark anger and inability to let lowlifes like Alan continue to breathe the same air. The mere thought of it disgusted him to his very core.

Then there was Samantha, his beloved wife. After working so hard for so many years to gain her trust, he had lost it again. The court was calling for Steffy to be put into foster care due to her father's apparent relapsing tendency towards murder, and Sam had been furious at him for choosing to return to his old life of crime and endangering their remaining daughter in the process. He'd tried to reason with her, but their relationship had worsened to the point where they had been living in separation for the past year. Sam had gone back to join WOOHP as a full-time agent, and Scam, not being able to bear the thought of losing the only daughter he had left, had taken her along with him, living a nomadic lifestyle as they drove from city to city across the contiguous United States, evading the law at every turn.

"Why are we going away again?" Steffy suddenly asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. "How many times do we have to keep doing this?"

He shrugged. "As many times as it takes to keep you safe."

Steffy twirled a strand of her chocolate-brown hair absentmindedly. "I wish I could go back to school and live a normal life like my friends."

Her words pricked his heart, and he sighed again. At times like these, he would sometimes wonder whether killing Alan had been the right thing to do after all. As he had once been a cold-blooded murderer back in the day, he knew how hard it was to give up old habits entirely – and the man had certainly deserved it, especially after what he had done to Celeste. The only difference Scam had neglected in his blind fury was that he was no longer living life for himself.

Knowing that Steffy took after her mother and loved school, he knew that this uncertain lifestyle of constant wandering was the last thing she wanted. But as much as he wanted her to be happy, how could he ever go back, now that they were threatening to take her away from him too?

"I know you do," he replied, giving her a sad smile. "But if we return, they'll take you away. Besides, you're getting a pretty good education as it is right now."

His daughter nodded, knowing that in spite of everything, her father was doing all he could to ensure that her learning was not compromised. She knew he would regularly stop at bookstores and allow her to buy anything she wanted to read, and had also been consistently teaching her math and science in the meantime. Though she was at the age of a typical seventh-grader, her knowledge of those two subjects was equivalent to that of a high school junior. She knew her father was a genius, and she was greatly thankful to him for that.

"Daddy?" she asked again. "Do you think giving up our old life was worthwhile?"

"Yes," he admitted after a long pause. "Honey, you know what he did to your sister was utterly unforgivable. I couldn't just let him get away with it."

Their car rounded a bend and Steffy found herself staring at an otherworldly landscape typical of the vast deserts of inland California. Reddish mountains loomed in the distance, and the ground was entirely barren for miles around, save for a few shrubs scattered here and there.

Something caught Steffy's attention as she quietly observed her surroundings. Was it just her imagination, or did the air suddenly seem a bit… _smoky? _

"Daddy…" she breathed, "do you think there's a fire nearby?"

"Don't know," her father replied, as he narrowed his eyes at the road looming ominously ahead. His instincts were blaring, telling him that something didn't feel right around here. The road was getting progressively bumpier as they drove on, and at one point they passed a dilapidated street sign that was practically unreadable. The smoke in the air seemed to be getting heavier with each foot they drove: it was getting harder to see anything at all.

Steffy swallowed nervously as she turned to look at her father. "Daddy, you wouldn't say… AHHHHHHH!"

She was cut off mid-sentence as the road before them came to a jagged end, causing the car to careen off the edge and plummet into the dry desert valley below. The last thing Scam saw was a strangely familiar look of terror in his daughter's eyes before everything went black.


	3. Clues

_Disclaimer: Totally Spies belongs to Marathon Media Inc._

* * *

Scam woke up with a start, coughing violently as the familiar smoky smell invaded his nostrils and scratched his throat. _Where in the world was he? _Rubbing his eyes, he looked down and examined himself for injuries, sighing with relief when he found that there were none apart from a few minor cuts and bruises.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized that his daughter was missing. "Steffy!" he shouted desperately at the top of his voice, listening to his cry echo repeatedly around the empty valley. Scam frantically checked the smashed metallic wreckage near him that had once been his car, and felt a bit more relieved when he saw that no one was inside. At least now he knew that she hadn't been squashed to death before having had a chance to escape. But where was she, and where was this place? Scanning the hazy horizon for clues, he saw that he had crashed right on the outskirts of a small desert town. Perhaps one of its inhabitants had seen her and rescued her. He could only hope that that was the case as he began making his way towards town.

As he stepped onto the main street, Scam couldn't help but notice that there was something seriously amiss about the place. All the buildings were in an awful state – they looked as though they'd just suffered a fire. "That would explain the smoke from earlier," he said aloud to himself. Spotting a gas station several blocks further down the road, he figured that he would go there and ask the customers if they had seen Steffy.

When he reached the station, he was disappointed to find that there was not a single person in sight, save for an old man sitting on a chair in front of the convenience store with a sleeping cat curled in his lap. The old man was wearing sunglasses that blocked out a large portion of his face, and kept a white walking stick at his side. Scam groaned inwardly. Of all the people he could possibly find, this guy just _had _to be blind. Of course he wouldn't have seen Steffy at all; how could he…?

"Need help, sonny?" the old man asked helpfully, startling Scam out of his frustration. How did the man know he was there? _His other senses must be really sharp, _Scam reasoned, now a little hopeful that perhaps this man knew something after all.

"Yes, sir, I'm looking for my daughter," he responded. "We got into an accident and lost our way, and now I can't find her anywhere. You wouldn't happen to have _heard_ her or anything, have you?"

"Oh, I know about her," the old man said, grinning widely. "Delightful little soul, isn't she? Brown hair… green eyes…"

Scam's eyes widened as he realized what the old man was saying. "So you _aren't _blind!" he smirked, feeling foolish for having been thrown off by the man's accessories.

"Ah, sonny, but I am," the old man laughed, causing Scam's brow to furrow in confusion. "I've just been around this town for a _very_ long time. It's caused me to… _acquire _additional ways of perceiving things, if you will."

"How does that make any sense?" Scam wondered, now genuinely curious as to what this old man was getting at. "What's so special about this place anyway? Is my daughter in here?"

"Well, let's just say this town has a way of… _teaching_ people certain lessons. It changes depending on who enters it. But don't worry. If you're smart, you'll learn what you need to learn and you'll be on your way in no time – and yes, your daughter _is _somewhere in here. I can sense her presence. I'm afraid I can't be more specific than that, though."

At this point Scam was thoroughly convinced that the man was a kook, but he smiled and nodded anyway. "Alright sir, thanks for the information!" he exclaimed cheerily as he turned to leave. "Now what was that nonsense all about?" he asked himself quietly once he was no longer within earshot. "Was he trying to imply that this is some kind of freaky ghost town from one of those cheap horror movies? Seriously?" Shaking his head in disbelief, he knew that there were always going to be people that he could never understand for the life of him. Still, he had more important things to do, and for now he had to find Steffy and get her out of here as quickly as possible.

As he walked on, he grew increasingly mystified when he saw that _every _building had the same burnt appearance, with no exceptions. What were the chances that all the buildings in a single town just happened to be burned in the same way? "That must have been an incredible task for those poor firefighters," Scam smirked to himself, imagining the chaotic scene that must have occurred.

Still, it didn't explain why the entire town appeared to be fully deserted. No matter how hard he looked, he hadn't yet seen another person here besides the old blind man from earlier. He decided to try calling for his daughter again. "Steffy!" he shouted, getting more confused when he heard nothing in return except for his own echo. "Steffy!" Still nothing.

His ears perked up in curiosity when he thought he heard a faint strain of music coming from somewhere. While attempting to trace a path to the source of the sound, he blinked when he suddenly realized that he recognized the tune – a Billy Joel song.

_We didn't start the fire_

_It was always burning_

_Since the world's been turning_

_We didn't start the fire_

_No we didn't light it_

_But we tried to fight it_

Scam sighed in annoyance – that wasn't helpful at all. But as he came closer and closer to the song's source, his eyes widened again in shock as he realized that it was coming from a charred, beat-up version of _Celeste's _favorite radio, the one she had once persuaded him to get her at a garage sale. "How on earth did it get here?" he asked, thinking that there must have been a mistake.

But his doubts were confirmed when he turned the instrument over and saw the initials "C. S." scribbled there plainly in childish handwriting. He was beginning to think that perhaps the old man had been on to something after all…


	4. Doll

_Disclaimer: Totally Spies belongs to Marathon Media Inc._

* * *

It didn't make any sense to him. Why would Celeste's radio be lying here out in a secluded Californian desert town, especially when she clearly had never been here before? "Or maybe 'C. S.' means someone other than Celeste Scam," Tim Scam thought to himself. Content with that explanation, he turned the radio off and was about to leave when he saw that there were more objects strewn about the ground. It appeared to be some kind of playground, with faintly drawn doodles of flowers and rainbows still etched into it in colored chalk. There were children's toys of all kinds left on the floor: stuffed animals, marbles, miniature cars, and dolls.

_Wait, dolls? _

One of them caught his eye and he picked it up, not believing what he was seeing. It was the very first toy he had made for Celeste when she was born – a simple wooden figurine he had fashioned using nothing but a chunk of log and a utility knife, with a smiling face drawn onto it in felt tip marker.

Slowly but surely, Scam was starting to figure out that this was no ordinary town, regardless of whatever the blind man had told him. "This place is playing tricks on my mind," he muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. He hoped that it wasn't somehow misleading Steffy too. Where was she, anyway?

"_Don't move!"_

Scam stiffened at the voice that had seemingly come out of nowhere. Somehow it sounded too familiar, like he had known its owner for years. He slowly turned around and froze in shock when he saw that he was face-to-face with his wife, who was pointing a handgun at his head.

"Sam?" he asked in disbelief, secretly wondering if he was hallucinating or experiencing a heat stroke from the blazing sun. "What are you doing here?"

She rolled her eyes in response. "Never mind that," she retorted. "_You're _the one who's supposed to be answering my questions. I'm glad I've finally caught up to you now – you're about to get what you deserved in the first place."

Puzzled by Sam's odd words, which were sounding less and less like the kind, dutiful woman he had once married, Scam couldn't help feeling that he had already seen this nasty, vengeful side of her before. Whatever was happening, he could safely say that he didn't like it. "And what would that be?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, unsure of where she was going with this.

"I'm back to do what I did for years when we first met – bringing you to justice."

Scam snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that," he taunted, a dismissive smirk spreading across his lips. "Hasn't that plan not really gone over so well in the past, what with me escaping regularly? Plus, the last time you did that, you ended up marrying me instead, remember?" He emphasized the last sentence, not about to let her forget that important fact so easily.

His wife glared at him through her narrowed emerald orbs. She couldn't believe he still had the guts to act nonchalantly about what he was doing.

"You still don't get it, do you?" she spat. "That last time was when I was genuinely convinced that you were capable of changing for the better. You showed so much potential." A trace of sadness made its way into her tone, even though she was clearly struggling hard not to allow it. "But now I see that was a mistake. I should have known better than to fall in love with a man who clearly still doesn't understand the meaning of responsibility."

Scam's eyes widened and he clenched his fists in rage at what he was being accused of. "Excuse me?" he asked icily.

"Do you have any idea of what I've been through the past year?" Sam shouted, now beginning to lose her temper. "I've lost countless hours of sleep, not knowing where you took Steffy off to – and worst yet, not even knowing whether or not I could trust you alone with her. I knew you'd probably go back to your old _criminal _ways of escaping what you knew was coming to you. It's in your nature, isn't it?"

Her hand wavered slightly as she held onto her weapon. "But don't worry; everything's clear to me now," she declared. "You never cared about anything except _your own _petty revenge. In your world, nothing exists except your own warped, self-serving sense of justice! You obviously didn't care that you were also going to be hurting both your wife and child when you went on that murderous rampage against that sick freak. Then after what you did, you just ran like a coward and took our child – _our only child – _away from me."

Just then, she looked down and noticed that he was holding something in his hand. "What's that you've got?" she asked.

Scam frowned and pulled the doll away. "It's none of your business," he said rudely, not really in the mood for being questioned. By this point, he was seething with rage at how Sam was acting. Did she have any idea how selfish she sounded herself? How could she even think of her own comfort, especially after what had happened to their younger daughter on that terrible night?

"Let me see it!" she yelled, pressing the barrel of the gun against his head. He growled at how illogically she was acting, but conceded and passed the doll over to her.

All at once, she appeared to fall into a dream-like trance. "Celeste…" she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the wooden figurine. Suddenly she broke down in a fit of uncontrollable crying and fell to her knees, dropping her gun in the process. Scam frowned again in concern and tried to comfort her.

"Hey, it's okay…" he began, stretching out to put his hand on her shoulder, but she snapped at him instead.

"Go away! Leave me alone before I change my mind!"

Her anguished scream rang throughout the town. Clearly she was in no state to be reasoned with, and Scam reluctantly left Celeste's doll with her, walking away until he could no longer hear her sobbing.


End file.
